


Touch Me (Or Don't)

by thesimplyuninspired



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Asexual Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 05:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9534653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesimplyuninspired/pseuds/thesimplyuninspired
Summary: It's date night, and both Dean and Lisa are pretty sure where it's going. Except Dean may have neglected to mention something.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: awkward. Which this is, definitely. Please be advised, author does not know what she is doing.

Lisa looked beautiful. If he was honest with himself, Dean knew he would think that anywhere at any time. But sitting in a restaurant almost out of his price range, bathed in soft light and a single strand of her hair falling out of place to curl against her face just so, Dean almost couldn’t breathe at the thought of it. She looked beautiful.

Sweat crept down the back of Dean’s neck, and he tried to take it easy on the wine.

They had been making very stilted conversation since they’d sat down, hiding behind their menus and wine glasses. Lisa hid it well, but Dean spotted her tells: the strain of her smile, her nails drumming without rhythm on the pristine table cloth. Dean was almost certain it was in reaction to his own mood, and he hated it, almost as much as he hated not knowing how to pull himself out of it.

Two weeks, they had been planning this date. And now Dean got to watch as it caught fire and veered gracelessly to the ground.

They managed to get all the way through ordering before addressing the elephant in the room.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” asked Lisa.

Dean’s gaze, following the waiter’s retreating back, snapped to Lisa instantly. Her expression was now an awkward, rueful smile. He floundered for a second, and when her eyes slipped down towards the table cloth, Dean knew he’d hesitated a second too long.

“I mean, I get it,” Lisa continued, laughing nervously. “This is way out of our usual date scene and to be honest when I mentioned this place-”

“Hey, hey,” Dean interrupted, reaching across the table. “This place is fine, really, it’s really…”

Dean trailed off, the rest of his sentence withering and dying as he glanced around at the modern décor and softly lit lamps. He felt Lisa’s fingers slipping over his own, and he turned his gaze back to her: her smile still tilted with a private, awkward joke, and her eyes warm and a little too knowing. She always seemed better able to read him than he could read himself.

“…It’s worth admission but it’s making my wallet nervous, yeah.”

When she laughed in response, it was like the tension had been drained away to a small puddle. Dean felt his shoulders relaxing as he started to chuckle himself. Soon they were both bent over the table, trying to stifle snickering and all too aware of the strange looks being surreptitiously thrown their way. Meanwhile, their hands on the table had rearranged and their fingers were now linked, easy.

After a few moments to get the laughter under control, Lisa, bringing up her free hand to block her giggles, managed to say, “I’m sorry…”

Dean asked, “For what?” His own giggling was smoothing away, leaving him feeling loose and happy.

“Honesty time?” Lisa glanced away, but it was more thoughtful than ashamed. “I had actually just mentioned coming here as a pipe dream. I…didn’t actually expect you to pick it.”

“Honesty time?” Dean echoed, grinning. “That’s kind of why I chose it.”

Lisa’s eyebrows rose a little, and Dean inclined his head. “What? You think I can’t read you?”

“Sometimes I wonder,” Lisa teased.

“Oh, well, hopefully this stands as a lesson, then.”

“Oh, I will remember.”

“You’re damn right.”

They smiled at each other, letting the restaurant’s ambiance fill the space between them. The lighting made Lisa’s eyes warm and dark, and Dean was almost content to get lost in them for a little while. This was nice. This was good. It was a quiet reminder that this was a good thing, and he didn’t need to be so nervous.

“Thank you,” said Lisa, softly, “for coming her with me. I’m enjoying myself, really.”

“Good,” Dean smiled, equally soft.

“And if you’re worried about later…” Her smile was more playful now, a different kind of dark coming to her eyes as she spoke in slow, steady tones. “…don’t. We’ll get there when we get there.”

A sudden clench in his gut, and Dean’s mind went blank. Somehow, he had managed to forget, but now Lisa was looking at him like _that_ and he felt like a complete fraud. Which was nonsense, he knew, logically. Logically, he knew that Lisa would understand if he explained. In fact, that seemed like a very good idea at the moment. He opened his mouth, casting for the words.

Unfortunately, that also happened to be the moment when the waiter decided to return with a refill on the wine. The pair leaned back in their seats, fingers slipping out of their grasps. Across the table, Lisa afforded him one last playful look, sultry for a second, before turning to the waiter with a polite smile.

Inwardly, Dean groaned and went back to trying not to panic.

***

They made it back to Lisa’s apartment in one piece. And they managed to stumble into her bedroom with minimal damage.

Between peppering Lisa with kisses, Dean kept up a steady mantra of, _So far, so good._

Somewhere between the door and falling onto the bed, Lisa had managed to divest Dean of his tie and belt, and was making quick work of his shirt buttons. Dean, meanwhile, had unzipped her dress and carefully undone Lisa’s hair, and now had it twined between his fingers. He honestly did love the feel of Lisa’s hair, would have loved to play with it under different circumstances. But tonight…

He had told Lisa, on that first date, that he enjoyed sex. It was true. It was just that most of the time he didn’t really think about it and, on occasion, definitely, _definitely_ would prefer not to.

That part had cost him a lot of potential partners. A lot of heartbreak. So maybe he had kept it to himself for as long as possible because, God, did he want this one to work. Just this once…

“Dean…”

 _Don’t worry about it,_ thought Dean, making his way down her neck while his fingers found their way through the back of her dress. He could fake it pretty well, he could do it tonight.

“ _Dean._ ”

He was at the clasps of Lisa’s bra when her heels kicked solidly, but not painfully, against the back of his thighs. Dean detached himself from her collarbone to look at her, feeling somewhere between dazed and a like a rabbit caught in headlights.

Lisa was looking at him, closely. She had sized him up before when they first met, but the scrutiny she was giving him now made him feel truly naked. He fought the heat in his cheeks and waited, counting heartbeats.

“…Call me crazy…,” said Lisa, carefully, “…but- one of us doesn’t seem into this.”

Her hands were resting on his back, just below his shoulder blades. Just resting. Dean was absolutely certain that if he bolted for the door, she would not hold him back.

Dean blinked, and shook his head slightly. “…What are you talking about?”

“I mean, I’m having a good time,” she clarified, hands lifting briefly and coming back down to rest, gently. “You- seem a bit lost in your head there.”

The breaths between them, moments ago sharp panting, lengthened out. Dean realized that he was settling more and more onto his arms and knees, her body pressed between them more out of happenstance than actually holding her. He was grateful for it though, grateful for the warmth of her, just as he was grateful for the questions he could tell she wasn’t asking, and the idle drumming of her fingers on his back. For a moment, he almost thought he caught the rhythm of Kashmir.

“I like kissing,” he said.

Lisa’s expression did not change, but the drumming stopped. “…Okay.”

“I- I really like kissing, I could kiss all the time,” said Dean, the words suddenly spilling out of him. “And I do like sex, I didn’t lie about that, I do, y’know, I mean…sometimes…”

“…And sometimes, not so much?” Lisa finished. It ended on a question, but he could tell that it wasn’t really a question at all.

He bucked, embarrassment a foul jolt of electricity telling him to move, get out. He didn’t get very far before Lisa’s hands found his face, shushing him.

“Hey,” she said softly, finding his eyes with hers. He felt her thumbs on his cheekbones and allowed a breath, inhaling. She smiled at him, and said gently, “You could have told me that.”

“I know,” Dean admitted. “I just- I wanted tonight to be, y’know…nice. I wanted to…but a lot of nights I just don’t….”

“Yeah,” Lisa confirmed, running a hand through his hair. Her smile was gentle without being patronizing, and for a moment Dean thought that he loved her so much, so much. Instead of saying that, he dropped his head into the crook of her neck and breathed deeply for a minute.

***

A few minutes later, Lisa had switched into pajamas, and they had found some old, over-sized sweatpants and shirt from some old boyfriend of Lisa’s for Dean to wear. Soon after, they were sitting at the small kitchen counter, freshly made cocoa steaming in front of them as they took small, gentle sips. Dean took the moment to look at Lisa in the fluorescent kitchen light, dressed in loose-fitting pajamas that had a cartoon cat with the speech bubble “Cool Cat” printed across the front, hair slightly messy and make-up mostly gone. She looked beautiful.

“So I’m kind of asexual.”

“It would seem so, yes,” Lisa nodded.

“So, I mean, it’s not you, it’s me.”

“Okay,” Lisa laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are lovely, comments are welcome.


End file.
